


How Can I Be Sure?

by theychosefamily67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Cussing, F/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 16:32:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5633494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theychosefamily67/pseuds/theychosefamily67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine being tortured by shapeshifters that look like Sam and Dean, and when the real boys come for you, you're afraid of them.  Taken from here: http://supernaturalimagine.tumblr.com/post/136339953751/anon</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Can I Be Sure?

I slowly opened my eyes and winced at the pain in the back of my head. I tried to grab it but I couldn’t move my arms, they were tied to a chair. What the hell?

“She’s awake,” I heard Dean say. I looked up and he and Sam were standing in front of me.

“Dean, thank God, untie me,” I struggled against the ropes.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere darlin’,” he smirked, and backhanded me across the face.

I hissed in pain, “You’re not Dean.”

“Well, aren’t you smart,” he chuckled.

“I can be, you disgusting vile piece of shit,” I snarled. “What have you done with Sam and Dean?”

“Took care of ‘em,” Sam said, and punched me in the face.

I shook my head, trying not to pass out. 

“So whattya say Sammy? Wanna have a little fun?” Dean smirked.

“Oh yeah,” Sam smiled at me and picked a knife up off of the table.

“What are you doing?” I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

“We’re gonna see what your insides look like,” he laughed.

“Stay away from me!” I struggled against my bindings but it was no use.

“Or what? What’re you gonna do?” Dean laughed and grabbed my hair, yanking my head back.

Sam placed the knife against my throat, “If we cut you here will you die? I’ve never really understood how humans worked.”

I pressed my lips together and didn’t give them the satisfaction of an answer.

“I believe,” Dean yanked my hair, hard, “he asked you a question.”

“Yes, I would die,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Oh, then we better not do that, huh?” Sam pressed the knife to his cheek, staring me up and down. “Maybe we’ll just cut off a finger,” he put the blade to my knuckle, pressing down until I cried out.

“Awww does it hurt?” Dean’s face was so close to mine I could smell his foul breath.

Sam stopped pressing and I grit my teeth, willing the tears not to fall.

Dean let go of my hair and grabbed another knife off the table, circling me, deciding where he was going to cut.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I spat out.

“Oh, she’s such a smartass! I kinda like that,” Sam said. He grabbed my face and kissed me, hard, his tongue trying to force my lips open. I shook my head, breaking free of his grip.

“What’s the matter? You like it when HE does it,” he pouted, then he sliced my cheek with the knife.

I cried out, feeling the blood run down my face and pool into my collar.

“Now let’s see if he still wants to kiss you,” he smirked.

Dean laughed and slashed my other cheek. 

Sam knelt in front of me, popping the buttons on my shirt off with his knife. “Maybe we should mark up this pretty body of hers also.”

He shoved my shirt aside and placed the knife at the top of my breast, sticking the point in deeper and deeper. 

“Good idea,” Dean stood behind me and sliced across the top of my other breast. I screamed and suddenly there was a crashing noise from the other room.

“I’m in here!” I screamed and Sam punched me in the face so hard that I blacked out.

“Oh God, please be alright. Y/N, wake up, please,” someone was holding me in their arms, gently touching my face. I opened my eyes and it was Sam. I pushed him away and scrambled backwards, was it Sam? 

“Get away from me!”

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He reached out to me, confusion on his face.

“I said get the hell away from me!” I grabbed one of the knives off the table and held it out in front of me.

“Y/N, it’s me. It’s Sam.”

Dean walked in the room, wiping down a bloody knife. “What the hell is going on?”

“She thinks we’re the shapeshifters,” Sam said.

“Y/N, it’s us. We killed them, come look,” Dean gestured to the room behind him.

“Or you killed Sam and Dean!”

“Ok, look, this is a silver knife,” Dean rolled up his sleeve and pressed it to his arm. Blood ran down and he held out the knife to Sam who did the same.

“See, it’s us?” Sam rolled his sleeve down and held out his arms.

I nodded, dropping the knife to the floor. “Can we go home please?”

“Sure, let’s go.”

I walked past Sam and he tried to put his arm around me but I moved out of the way. I just kept seeing the shifter laughing, punching, slicing me, with Sam’s face.

“I’m sorry, I just...I can’t,” I said softly, wrapping my arms tightly around my exposed breasts.

He looked so hurt, but then he nodded. “I understand. Here, take my coat.”

I wrapped his coat around me and crawled into the backseat of the Impala. I leaned my face on the cool glass, it helped a little with the pain. I must have fallen asleep in the time it took to drive to the bunker, because the next thing I knew I was in my bed. I felt my face and someone had stitched up my cuts while I was out, including the one on my breast.

Sam came in the room, carrying a tray, “Hey, how’re you feelin’?”

“A little better,” I sat up in bed.

“I made you some soup, figured you might be hungry,” he set the tray on my lap and then sat down on the side of my bed.

“Thanks,” I smiled, realizing too late that was a mistake. I hissed in pain and Sam reached for me. I jumped back and spilled the soup all over the tray.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he trailed off, his hand stopped in mid-air. “I’ll get you some more soup.” He gathered up the tray and left the room.

I felt so bad, in my mind I knew it was my Sam, but my body just kept reacting.

I got out of bed and went to the kitchen. 

“What’re we gonna do man? She’s still so scared of me that she jumped halfway out of the bed just now,” Sam sounded so upset.

“You just gotta give her time. I mean, come on dude, they were wearing our faces,” I heard Dean say.

“Yeah, but they weren’t you,” I walked around the corner and they both jumped.

“Hey, what’re you doing out of bed? I was gonna bring this back to you,” Sam set the bowl of soup he had in his hands back on the kitchen counter.

“I just, I feel so bad. I know it wasn’t y’all, but, in my mind, that’s all I can see, you know?” 

“What can we do?” Sam asked.

“I...I need to do this, okay?”

“Do what?” Dean asked.

I walked over to Dean and stared in his eyes. He looked slightly uncomfortable, but he stayed still. I put my hand on his cheek, feeling the two-day old scruff, and said, “Yep, it’s you.”

Then I turned to Sam. I walked over and took a deep breath. 

“Don’t move,” I said.

He nodded.

I put my head to his chest, there it was. The sound I listened to every night as I fell asleep, his heartbeat. I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his shirt, and then the tears came.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly.

I nodded and he wrapped his arms around me, kissing the top of my head.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry we didn’t get there sooner,” he murmured against my hair.

“Shhh, don’t, it’s okay,” I said, sniffling and wiping my eyes.

I looked up at him and he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. That’s when I was sure the nightmare was over.


End file.
